Assassin's Creed: Theta
by BlueSpartan107
Summary: Original story set after Assassins Creed 3. Jason Grey, a young writer, is kidnapped by his uncle and helps the Assassins find an artifact that could change the shape of the war. Jason enters the life of Carlisle Grayson, an Assassin of the eighteenth century, as he fights the Templars in Europe while trying to discover a mystery hidden behind the word 'Theta'. V,L,SC possible.
1. Prologue: Welcome To The Animus

Prologue: Welcome To The Animus

_As Jason began to open his eyes, he found himself trying to remember what had transpired last night. He was at a party with his friends over at the Bad Weather night club. They wanted him to celebrate his graduation from college and they knew that he used to hang out at the place. Of course, the only reason he did was because he liked talking to the bartender, Desmond Miles, about his book ideas. He wanted to be a writer ever since he was eleven years old, since his foster parents used to write magnificent novels of heroes of old. His real mother was dead, his father was out there somewhere, and his older brother was taken in by their uncle for some reason. Now none of his living relatives had been in contact with him for four months, and Desmond had gone off the grid around the same time. In fact, his friends didn't know he didn't drink anything while he was here; not even Desmond's famous Shirley Templar he offered when he officially turned twenty-one and didn't need to slip through the back with his hood up._

_His mind went blank again when he saw what he was looking at._

_It looked like a movie sequence set in the past. The world around him seemed to be flickering, as if he was watching a video game having difficulty loading its textures. The time setting was definitely in the past, and everyone was wearing things that have only been worn in plays and movies of the time period._

_As for his body, he was wearing a blue coat from the time period with leather bracers, armored boots, metal guards on his shoulders, and what appeared to be a chainmail overlay within his coat. There was a golden sword on his belt that didn't seem to match the time period, and he was carrying a few guns strapped to his thighs and a strange back holster. There was a hood that covered his eyes and he could already see that in his hand was a necklace. On it was an oval with a line that cut horizontally through it. It appeared to be made out of iron or ebony, as it was a metallic black._

_"Something's wrong." Jason heard a voice. "He's having issues connecting to his ancestor's memories." The voice was feminine, and it got Jason's thoughts working again. Who was that voice? What did she mean by 'ancestor's memories?'_

_"Give him some time, Elizabeth." Another voice spoke. This voice was familiar to Jason. Was it Uncle Drew? "The machine doesn't immediately give the user access to the memory."_

_"Mr. Hobbes, if Jason tries accessing the memory in this state, serious complications could arise to his mental health." A third voice spoke. It was that of a man he didn't know, but Jason could hear the British accent laced with the words. "I offered to help in your investigation because it would help stop Abstergo's edge in the market. I don't want anything messing this up."_

_"I know my nephew's limits, even though I've neglected him for fifteen years. He can do this."_

_"Sir," The feminine voice spoke again. "Jason's being pulled back from his memories."_

_As soon as Jason heard that, he felt something shift in the simulation, and suddenly he saw himself falling. He wasn't sure if he jumped or if he was pushed, but he did see someone in front of him falling with him. As if by instinct, his body (or perhaps his ancestor's body) shot an arm forward, unleashing some kind of blade from his bracer. His other hand held onto a sword, and even though he couldn't see it clearly, the other man that was falling with him had a sword pointed at him. His left hand sunk the blade into the man's shoulder, stabbing his sword into the man's chest._

_"If this is the end, let us die together, Drake!" Jason spoke, but it was not his voice. His ancestor was definitely an Englishman and there was a tone of anger in his voice._

_The man named Drake laughed. "This isn't how we're going to die, boy!" Drake pushed his hand out of his shoulder and pulled something on Jason's coat. He didn't have time to figure out what it was as he seemed to jump to another memory after that. This time he was on a ship that was taking cannonfire from another ship nearby._

_"Carlisle," Another female voice spoke. Could Carlisle be his ancestor's name? "I don't think it's wise for us to even think about ramming that ship! We've almost sunk the Majesty here!"_

_"Then we'll take the Hangman's Noose from the Templars as they have with so many of our brothers over the years!" Jason/Carlisle yelled._

_"It's fifty against twenty! How can we do that?!"_

_"Katherine," Jason saw his arm go to the woman's cheek. "I know we can do it. We're Assassins. We can do anything."_

_"But what about Jauffre? He's a thief and a brawler, not a trained killer! What if he gets hurt during this?"_

_"He won't! He knows how to survive!"_

_A man in a brown jacket ran up next to him. He had a metal shovel in his hands and he was sweating and panting._

_"Carlisle, the crew says we've used the last of the cannonballs!"_

_"Tell them to prepare to board, Jauffre! We're taking the Hangman's Noose from that Templar bastard!"_

_The memory faded, and Jason could hear the arguement from the outside world again._

_"Look, Mr. Hobbes, maybe we should pull Jason out and explain what is going on. Maybe it'll help him access the memory. Elizabeth keeps saying it's forcing him out. Maybe if he knows what's at stake-"_

_"There's not much at stake anymore, David." Uncle Drew replied. David? As in his best friend David Armsby? What was he doing here? "Desmond Miles stopped the most dangerous part of our assignment. Now we have to focus on finding the artifacts his ancestor hid from the world so if Juno tries to rise, we stop her from using the most dangerous artifacts the Forgotten Ones left behind."_

_"You should tell him anyway. He's your nephew and he's my friend. I don't want to keep him in the dark."_

_"Fine. Elizabeth, pull him out. Gently."_

_Jason saw a bright light and felt as if he was about to wake up from a dream, but not before he heard a few final words in the simulation he was in._

_"Start at the beginning so that you know the end, Jason."_

As soon as Jason could open his eyes, he saw a white ceiling above him and a glass visor moving away from his eyes. The people surrounding him looked at him, some with curiosity while others with compassion. As soon as Jason grasped his head, his uncle spoke.

"Jason, are you all right?" He placed his hand on his shoulder, but Jason shook it off.

"What the hell was that, uncle?! What is this?! What's going on?!"

"Calm down, Jason. Let me explain. You were brought here to help us with finding something."

"Help you find what? And how would I helped you trapped in this machine here."

"Animus." The Englishman spoke. "The machine is called an Animus. As for where you are, Jason Grey, we are in London right now."

Jason blinked. "London? That's across the Atlantic. How'd I get here?"

"That was your uncle's doing. He knocked you out back in America and flew you here. We plugged you into the Animus so you could help find an artifact of great power."

"And just who are you supposed to be, mister businessman?"

The Englishman bowed his head. "Matthew West of Pendragon Industries. I'm the C.E.O. of the company and I am funding this project to find the artifact your uncle is looking for."

"Pendragon? Doesn't your company design computers or something?"

"Computers, cell phones, cars; pretty much anything that we use on a daily basis. The Animus, however, was technology that we stole from Abstergo after Desmond Miles eliminated most of the staff trying to rescue his father."

"Desmond?" Jason stood up. "Desmond was just a bartender. I visited his club every night he worked just to talk to the guy."

"Desmond was captured by Abstergo and placed into the Animus to find the locations of the Pieces of Eden. He escaped and aided the Assassins in stopping a far greater threat from ending the world, but at the cost of his own life. Now the Assassins are struggling with the war against the Templars."

"Templars? Pieces of Eden? Assassins?! What did I get dragged into here?"

Drew cleared his throat. "Jason, behind the scenes of history, there have been two separate factions fighting for control; the Templars and the Assassins. The Templars seek to place the world under their control, using artifacts hidden from history to indoctrinate us to do their bidding. The Assassins fight the Templars to ensure that every human being possesses their free will. You are an Assassin, as am I."

"Uncle, I don't think you noticed, but I am not an Assassin. I have been living with my adoptive parents for fifteen years without even a visit from you and Rodney. I've been taught how to write books, not kill people. And I don't appreciate being kidnapped and strapped to a machine that I don't even know about. So if finding this damn artifact of yours by plugging into this damn machine is important to you or the Assassins, why don't you or Rodney strap yourself into this damn thing!"

"I can't do that, Jason. The ancestor the Animus is looking for belongs to your father's gene pool. You mother was my sister. And Rodney-" Drew stopped.

Jason looked up at his uncle, still holding a look of annoyance on his face. "What? What excuse does Rodney have for not strapping himself to this damn thing?!" Jason saw as his uncle looked around at Matthew, then David, and then back at him.

"Rodney's dead."

Jason stopped, dropping his annoyed look. "What?"

"He was murdered by a Templar sleeper agent named David Cross about a month ago, before Desmond killed him at Abstergo. We never suspected anything until it was too late. And with your father still missing, we can only access the memories through you. This will also help train you, as well."

"To become an Assassin? How?"

The woman that spoke during his moment inside the Animus showed her face. "The Animus causes something to the user called the Bleeding Effect. It makes it so that you inherit traits from your ancestors that you can use in real life. Skills such as fighting or what the Assassins call Eagle vision."

Drew turned around. "Ah, Miss Tanner. Glad you could rejoin us. Jason, this is Elizabeth Tanner. She will be helping out with the tech stuff involved with the Animus."

Jason turned to see Elizabeth for the first time. She had curly red-brown hair, green eyes, and freckles on her cheeks. The first word that immediately came to Jason's mind was 'beautiful', but he couldn't find a way to speak the word. He was mesmerized.

Immediately he felt his friend jab him in the arm.

"I somehow knew you'd like Lizzy." David joked. "Hell, I signed up because of her. She asked me to help get you here, so now here we are."

That brought Jason back to reality. "Speaking of you, why are you here, David?"

"The Assassins need all the help they can get and you needed someone you could trust here. Obviously Lizzy and Mr. West are new to you, and your uncle has never really talked to you until now, so I was asked to help get you here. And I'm telling you, you've gotta use this machine! It can send you back in time to see life through the eyes of your ancestors. I actually tested it out for them, too. Learned a few new ways to throw a punch because of that tough bastard I ended up as."

"Is that so? I used to remember you got into fights over jocks calling women horrible names."

"Yeah, but this guy did a lot more than that, too. Maybe during breaks we can talk about him. You know, assuming you'll still help out your uncle with the Animus."

Jason looked back at his uncle. "You know, uncle, if you had wanted me to help you, you could've done something along the lines of a letter or a phone call."

Drew cleared his throat. "Abstergo has been monitoring cell phone surveillance for a while. We couldn't give you a call."

"Well you could've just easily walked up to me and said 'Hey, I know we haven't talked for fifteen years, but I just wanted to say your brother's dead and we need help saving the world from ancient evils that only exist in the books you write!' That wouldn't have been hard."

"And how would I know I could convince you to come along willingly, huh?"

"I don't know. I would've listened eventually."

"'Eventually' is not a luxury we can afford right now. The Assassins are losing and we need every advantage we can get. The artifact we are looking for, however, would give both Juno and the Templars advantages over world domination if we do not locate it. Now I know the situation could've been handled better, but right now, we need to look into the mind of Carlisle Grayson, one of England's greatest Assassins. The division in London held copies of Carlisle's journals that told of an artifact he recovered from the Templar mastermind in 1719. Unfortunately, we can't access that date immediately. So, we're going to have to work our way to that memory, giving you time to harness Carlisle's skills for yourself. Once we find the artifact's location, we will immediately head for it and transfer the artifact to a newer facility where the Templars will not be able to reach it."

Jason sighed. "That easy, huh? All right. Since I don't seem to have a choice in the matter, I'm in. Next time, though, just try talking to me for a change, Uncle."

Drew smiled, rubbing his beard. "Next time, then."

Jason got himself comfortable on the Animus again, watching as Elizabeth pressed a few buttons. The glass view screen moved across his eyes and he could feel the machine being reactivated. As his vision faded to white, he was wondering just what Carlisle Grayson was like. Was he just like himself, or was Carlisle a different man?

London; June 8th, 1715

Carlisle Grayson was a kind-hearted young man at the age of twenty-two. He was a courier for King George I and a participant of the Catholic Church. His mother was a middle-aged woman who was currently suffering from an illness that his brother, Gregory, could afford medicine for with his mysterious job. Wearing a white shirt, blue vest, blue pants, and black boots Carlisle walked into his king's chambers to receive his next message. He messed with his blonde hair for a second longer before stepping into the throne room.

King George wore the finest clothes made from England, and his long gray wig made him look very agreeable as king. George had taken a liking to Carlisle as he was devoted to the king and to his country, and he always delivered his messages to his contacts on time.

"Ah, Carlisle." George spoke. "I am glad to see you again. I have two messages and a package that needs to be delivered. I trust you will be able to deliver?"

"I am always at your service, my leige." Carlisle, bowed, smiling to his king. "What needs to be delivered?"

George summoned one of his servants with the wave of a hand, and Carlisle watched as a young boy with a backpack walked up to him, leaving the bag at his feet. "There is a letter for the guard captain that needs to be brought to him immediately. I also have a letter and package that need to be given to the captain of the vessel currently docked at port."

"I can do that." Carlisle picked up the backpack and slung it over his shoulders.

"The bag is a generous gift to you for your services. You have served me well these past few years, and I have not always showed my appreciation to you."

Carlisle blinked, surprised at this. "Why, thank you, my leige! I admit, I do not believe I have done anything to earn this favor."

"You have done more than enough to aid me. I trust you shall continue to do so for another twenty years."

Carlisle bowed. "God save the King!" When he had finished with his good-bye, he turned around and headed out of the palace, beginning his jog to the guard captain.

_"Looks like Jason's figuring out how to run as Carlisle." Elizabeth commented on the outside world._

_"You know, it's really only like real life, Liz." David retorted. "I mastered it easy as my ancestor."_

_"Hey, guys," Jason interrupted. "I know you're having a blast out there, but I'm trying to work here, so could you please stop talking about the controls and only tell me what to do when I'm stuck?"_

_"Sorry." David apologized._

Carlisle did not hear the conversation between those in the present time, so he had been jogging along patiently to the guard captain's office. The man wasn't there, but Carlisle pulled out the letter signed for him and placed it on his desk. When he returned, he could easily find and open it. It was about twenty minutes afterwards that Carlisle made it to the shipping yards and found the freighter loading up cargo. A man in a navy coat was looking at a roster when he turned at Carlisle's voice.

"Are you the captain of this vessel?"

"Yes, I am. What business do you have here?"

"I was told to deliver this package and letter from the king to you."

The captain took the items and looked at them. "Ah, these are items he's mailing out to the colonies across the Atlantic. We'll make sure they're delivered safely. There's talk of more pirates gathering along the coastlines of the Americas."

"How can the Americas be so full of opportunity if they have so many pirates?"

"Ever fought a pirate before, son?"

"No."

"Good, try keeping it that way. Our vessel's been attacked twice, but we know what to do. And unless you know how to fight, you wouldn't survive a pirate attack."

"I can fight. My brother taught me hand-to-hand and how to disarm an opponent. The king's also taught me a bit of sword play."

"What about guns?"

"What about them?"

"Do you know how to handle a gun?"

"Never had the luxury of learning."

"Then you should learn. The pirates use those a lot in their fights. They literally arm themselves with guns all over their body. Don't expect to come out of a skirmish against them alive if you can't use their own tactics against them." The captain walked up the ramp onto the ship, ending the conversation. Carlisle looked into the bag to see his weekly payment in a coin purse. With that note, he pulled it out and tied it to his belt, knowing exactly what to do with it.

"Time to get some food for the table." Carlisle moved at a brisk pace, walking away from the docks and to the market square. With the gold he earned, he made a purchase of salted meat, carrots, bread, potatoes and onions for a stew they could eat for dinner. It was as he was finished buying the goods that he felt a hand clamp on his shoulder and a familiar laugh echo in his ears.

"I knew I'd find you here, brother." Gregory laughed.

"Gregory, how was work today?" Carlisle turned, looking at his brown-haired brother. His brother wore a white coat with red embroilment from the place he worked. He was a bit secretive about what he did, but the gold he earned payed for their mother's medicine, which was good enough for Carlisle.

"It was dull compared to the things you do. I have mother's medicine, however. We should head on home, perhaps. But first, I want to test out on your skills. How about a little race to the church."

"You're on, big brother." Carlisle smiled.

"Okay. Three... Two..." With that, Gregory took off, making Carlisle frown at his brother's dirty trick. He immediately commanded his legs to move.

"That was cheating!" Carlisle yelled.

"It was fun and you know it." Gregory retorted, smiling that his brother caught up with him. "Best to keep up, Carlisle!"

The brothers ran through the streets, dodging the crowds before they got ran over by pedestrians. Once the church was in sight, Carlisle ran as fast as his legs could carry him, slowing down as he reached the wall. He was panting and out of breath when Gregory jumped onto the wall, climbing all the way to the top.

"Come on, Carlisle!" Gregory mocked from above, making his brother look up. "I'm not going home until you join me!"

Carlisle backed away. "You know I don't do heights, brother."

"Don't be such a baby. God will carry you up, Carlisle."

"That's a strange way to put the phrase 'fall to your death'."

"Just climb for mother's sake, then."

Carlisle grumbled as he reached for the ledge. "That's not a fair shot using mother against me." Slowly, he climbed up the window from the points that could be grabbed, reaching the top in no time. His one hand slipped, however, and his brother caught him before he fell.

"Come on, brother. I gotcha." Gregory laughed as he pulled Carlisle up.

"Don't ever make me do that again." Carlisle glared angrily at his brother.

"Don't worry, brother. I swear on mother's life I won't make you do that again."

"Good." Carlisle relaxed and looked around. "Although, I guess the view is a great reward for climbing this high."

"That's the spirit, brother. May London always hold promise for us." Gregory sighed as he relaxed his hand on Carlisle's shoulder.

"And may the city give us years of peace." Carlisle nodded, seeing the sun beginning to set.

Suddenly, his brother pushed him off the roof.

Carlisle yelled as he fell off the church into a cart of hay. When his senses came back to him, Carlisle climbed out and brushed himself of the hay that had gotten onto his clothes. Gregory followed after, climbing out without a single straw on him.

"You bastard." Carlisle growled.

Gregory laughed. "Come on, brother. I knew where the cart was. You didn't break your head or anything now, did you?"

Carlisle crossed his arms.

"Okay, let's head home. We don't want to keep mother waiting."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, there you have it. The first part of my Assassins Creed original fanfic. I plan on having fourteen segments, six interludes, and two epilogues in this (one for Carlisle and one for Jason). As always, I'm taking a canon/non-canon approach to things, but the canon for this story is only mentionings from the other games. Everything else is my own original idea which may not be actual material that could be used for a canon Assassins Creed game at the time.

This story is going to be updated bi-monthly to monthly depending on school and other projects of mine that I will be working on. London is the primary location, but I also plan to have Carlisle visit Barcelona and Scotland for some of the sequences. Carlisle will utilize many of both Ezio's and Edward's devices that they used against the Templars, all of which I will discuss on my YouTube channel (without major spoilers to the plotline). Carlisle/Jason will also be collecting journal entries that act as the collectibles of an Assassins Creed game, and Jason will make a bunch of references to things like game mechanics, storylines, and just flat-out references.

That's pretty much it for now. Follow and/or favorite for future updates, and review to keep me interested in the story.


	2. Sequence 1: A Normal Life

Sequence 1: A Normal Life

The skies began to darken more for Carlisle's walk home, and people were heading back home to be with their families. Gregory was being a bit quieter than usual; almost as if he was lost in thought. This gave Carlisle an uneasy feeling, as Gregory was usually cheery and always talking. Now it seems that he had been reflecting on something important, which was different from his usual attitude.

"Are you all right, Gregory?" Carlisle finally asked.

Gregory flinched for a second. "Oh, I'm fine. I've just been thinking about some things."

"What things?"

"Things regarding work that are currently none of your business."

Carlisle raised an eyebrow. "Why the hesitation, brother? It's not like I'm judging you for anything."

"You wouldn't understand what kind of things I'm dealing with. The last few days have been stressful, to say the least. That's all I should say."

"All right, then. I get it." Carlisle decided to stop talking in case his brother was in more of a foul mood. They walked for a few more minutes before Carlisle felt himself being dragged. Now fully aware of what was going on, he turned to see Gregory dragging him into a dark alley. He was about to speak before his brother's hand went over his mouth.

"Those men talking to the guard; they're not who they portray themselves as." Gregory whispered, releasing his hold on Carlisle's mouth but not letting go of his brother.

"What are you talking about?" Carlisle whispered, sensing that his brother was in a state of caution.

"I'm going to let go of you, and I want you to look around the corner a bit. Use your instincts, and look at the guards. They are not what they seem."

Carlisle felt his brother let go of him and he did as his brother asked, taking a peek around the corner to the three armed guards standing in the market.

_"If Carlisle focuses real hard, he can enter Eagle Vision." Elizabeth spoke on the outside world._

_"Eagle Vision?" Jason asked._

_"It's a sort of sixth sense that picks up what others can't see. Eagle Vision is something every human has, but it's unlocked to its fullest potential through training. Some of the people Desmond Miles lived as perfected it, such as Altair Ibn-La'Ahad or Ezio Auditore da Firenze."_

_"They were actually considered the ones who glorified our order, as Ezio took upon Altair's teachings and managed to stop the Templars during the turn of the sixteenth century." Drew added. "From what we knew, Carlisle revered Ezio as Ezio had Altair."_

_"This Ezio guy sounds like a badass, then. Let's see if I can figure this out." Jason concentrated hard and saw as Carlisle looked around the corner. For Jason, he could see Carlisle's vision had become bluer, and the guards seemed to glow red, as if they were a danger._

Carlisle looked around the corner to see a man in royal colors hand the guards some gold. He had an aged look to him and he wore a simple powdered wig. He had suspicious written all over his look, but confidence also seemed to show. Whoever he was, he was no friend of the people. Carlisle saw his head begin to turn and he brought himself back, hoping he wasn't spotted.

"What did you see?" Gregory whispered.

"The man in royal clothes handed the guards some money. He's not one of King George's subjects."

"Did any of them see you?"

"I don't know."

Gregory moved along the darkened alley, motioning Carlisle to join him. Carlisle hesitated, but moved towards him once he heard footsteps approaching. They were crouched down in a dark section of the alley, shrouded in darkness and quiet. Two of the soldiers had walked down the alley and stopped to look around where Carlisle and Gregory hid.

"I don't see anyone, sir." One of the soldiers said, walking away from the brothers.

"Probably was nothing." A second man; likely the suspect in question, spoke. "Still, keep an eye out for any suspicious activity. I don't want any loose ends."

The other soldier walked away, leaving the area rather quiet. Gregory stood up slowly, waving his hand at his brother as an all-clear.

"What's going on?" Carlisle asked.

"We'll talk about it more when we get home. For now, keep an eye out for trouble."

"All right." Carlisle stood up and followed his brother out of the alley to the crowded streets. They walked around some people and kept an eye out for trouble. On instinct, Gregory stopped and signalled Carlisle.

"There's more guards. They could be looking for us."

"How do you know?"

"I don't, but I'd rather not take a chance. Let's blend into a crowd. It's the best way to hide yourself from any kinds of trouble."

"Are you sure it's wise?"

"Only unless you plan on pickpocketing a lot of people."

"I don't."

"Then good. You'll do fine hiding in plain sight. Let's go." Gregory hopped into a crowd, walking along with them past the guards. Carlisle walked into a second crowd, trying to keep up with his older brother. The guards still searched around for suspicious activity, but there was none to be found since Carlisle had learned so well from his brother.

A few minutes later, Carlisle had arrived back at his house with his brother. Gregory smiled at his younger brother's return, patting him on the shoulder.

"See, that wasn't so bad." Gregory smiled, but Carlisle wasn't in the mood.

"Let's just make some dinner. Mother must have been worried sick." Carlisle walked up the step inside without another word.

A half-hour later, Carlisle had put out the bowls of soup he made for dinner, calling to his mother and brother to join him in the kitchen. He sat in his chair as soon as he saw Gregory walk through the kitchen door with his mother, Margaret. Margaret was a woman in her early forties, and she was suffering from a rare illness that was only treatable through an expensive medicine. Gregory was able to afford this medicine for her, but he still wouldn't explain where he gets his money from. Besides looking ill, Margaret had been beautiful once, but working to support her two children alone for over twenty years took a bit of a toll on her. That's why Carlisle works to support the family by working as a courier for the king. In a way, he kind of feels guilty for it. His dad left before he was born on a journey and never returned, which gave Carlisle suspicion as to what happened to him. Part of him thought his dad left because he didn't want to take care of two children, but the way his mother spoke about him made him cast those thoughts aside.

He still wondered who his father was or what he was like.

"This is a good soup, Carlisle." Gregory spoke, wiping his mouth with a napkin when he had finished slurping down the broth.

"Thanks." Carlisle acknowledged. After a few moments of silence, Carlisle decided to ask his brother the question that lingered in his mind. "Gregory, do you know what was going on today with that one royal we saw?"

Gregory set his spoon down slowly; his facial expression changing from glad to morbid. He didn't speak a word.

Margaret looked at her eldest son. "Tell him."

"Mother, we talked about this." Gregory started.

"Your brother deserves to know the truth. Tell him what's going on."

"What is the truth?" Carlisle asked.

"I shouldn't say-" Gregory began.

"He's your brother, Gregory!" Margaret shouted, causing tension in the room. "You need to tell him for his sake. You can't keep him out of this forever."

Gregory was silent for a few more seconds before he sighed. "Okay. Carlisle, you know how I don't talk about my job; the one that pays for mother's medicine? It's because I'm an informant for a group of people. They're looking into the possibility of a rebellion within the Parliament."

"Why? Who are you helping?"

"I cannot say. I don't want you dragged into this, little brother. What I can say, however, is that we're trying to protect the king. It's better if he stays out of this lest he be made a target."

"Haven't you tried warning him, at least?"

"No. Not until we have a list of the conspirators. Tipping the King off now will cause a panic, and the enemies may try to run. It's better if he's made unaware of this until we have proof."

"But he should be notified of the possibility, at least."

Gregory sighed, resting his forehead on his hand. "This is why I didn't want you involved. Your ties to the King could make you a target, and I don't want you dying for a cause you barely know." He raised his head. "But if you think the King needs to be notified, please keep it discreet. He doesn't need to know any details."

"I can tell him only what he needs to know." Carlisle nodded.

"All right. You can do it tomorrow when you do your rounds. Please, be very discreet about it, though."

Carlisle finished his bowl of soup and got up, placing his dishes in the wash basin and walking out. Margaret looked at her older son and spoke.

"You can't keep him from the truth forever."

"He doesn't need to be involved. He just needs to live out his life. I'll take care of this."

"He will discover everything one day, you know... About his father, his heritage, and everything you've tried so hard to protect him from."

"Carlisle deserves a normal life. One where he chooses what to believe in. Like how he believes in God."

"He uses God as guidance for growing up without his father. But like any family relationship, he will let go to find his own path. But his path may lead to where you're going if he chooses it."

Gregory stood up from his seat. "Come on, mother. Let's get you back to bed."

The next morning, Carlisle left the house with his new bag and renewed purpose, making his way to the palace to meet with the king. As he walked along, he thought about his conversation last night with his brother. Who in their right mind would want to overthrow the king? Why would they want to do that? What would that gain them?

_"Jason, it looks like Carlisle had performed a bunch of courier missions for not just the king." Elizabeth spoke. "If you spot someone with a parchmant over their head, it means they have a courier job for Carlisle."_

_"What is this? A video game?" Jason asked._

_"Abstergo made it so that it was easier to perform everything your ancestor did and become fully synchronized through the use of activities and collectibles." Matthew spoke. "So yes, think of it as like a video game. But trust me, the events are real. I tested it out myself once we got it. David underwent a few more stress tests afterwards."_

_"Which I was well compensated for, I might add." David chimed in._

_"Sounds like fun." Jason mumbled._

"Excuse me." A man asked, catching Carlisle's attention. "You are a courier, are you not? I have a delivery that needs to be made quickly. It's probably a little out of your way, but it pays well, and you look like the sort of person that could use some coin, no?"

"I guess I could make a quick delivery for you." Carlisle agreed.

"Thank you. Take this package to the address marked. The doorman is meant to pay a handsome fee for it. And please, make sure this package doesn't break or get wet. The contents are a bit 'delicate'."

Carlisle looked at the address and placed it in the bag. "It's on the way to the king. I should be able to get this done in about four minutes." He began to jog towards the building he was meant to deliver it to, avoiding the busy workers in the docks carrying crates full of their wares. That required him to jump on a few larger crates stacked around to avoid them. He wasn't much for the life of jumping around on buildings and structures, but he would do something like this when required. That's why he started jumping on the poles that stuck out of the water to avoid swimming, keeping his balance as best as possible to avoid falling in. After climbing a few stairways he made it to his destination.

He knocked on the door to see an old man answer. He was dressed in the fashion of the common butler. "Can I help you?"

Carlisle pulled out the package. "I have a delivery for you."

The butler took the package and examined it. "You must be the courier meant to send this over. The master expresses his gratitude through this payment." He handed him a coin purse before closing the door. Without a second thought about it, Carlisle walked away from the door.

From Jason's view, a little title popped up, mentioning how the mission was complete with Full Synchronization.

_"What's this Full Synchronization thing mean?"_

_"It's how close you can get to your ancestor when you perform an event they lived. If you get Full Synchronization, you harden the bond between you and Carlisle. If you fail to get Full Synchronization, you can always relive or restart a memory through the menu."_

_"Wait, there's a menu for that? Like in a video game? I'm starting to question how real this whole thing is."_

_"Wait until the Bleeding Effect kicks in. You'll probably start believing more."_

Carlisle ran to the palace and entered the royal chambers, finding King George waiting patiently in his chair.

"Carlisle, I bid you good morning."

"To you as well, my leige. Is there any deliveries that need to be made today?"

"Just a letter to the weaponsmith. We're commissioning a new officer into our ranks and we need a sword fashioned for his post."

"I can do that."

"Very good." George handed him the letter, which he slipped into his backpack. He then noticed Carlisle seemed to be a bit distant, which was unusual for his best courier. "Is there... something wrong, Carlisle?"

Carlisle looked into the king's eyes, initially trying to decide how to break it to him that he has enemies within his court. "I was... told some disturbing news last night."

"What was it?"

Carlisle took a breath. "There are likely conspirators among the nobles that seek to overthrow you."

"That's a pretty damning accusation. Do you have evidence towards such conspirators?"

"No, my leige, but my brother is apparently investigating into this. He asked me only to warn you, and that he would give you names once he and his group discover the conspirators."

"And what evidence does he have that there are conspirators at all?"

"Last night, we saw a nobleman bribing three guards. They would have caught us had we not took to the shadows. I don't know why he was bribing the guard, but he mentioned he didn't want any loose ends. That sent off warning bells in my head."

The king smiled and rested his hands on Carlisle's shoulders. "I thank you for warning me about this. I'll launch an investigation into the bribed men, but I want your brother to give me the names of those conspirators as soon as he discovers them."

"I'm certain he will share his information once he can confirm it."

George laughed. "You know what I like about you, Carlisle? You're loyal. You've served me greatly for the past few years, and you even went as far as to warn me of danger. I trust you shall continue to serve loyally for the coming years."

Carlisle smiled, but he couldn't help but feel a little nervous at the king's words. Why did they sound so... odd? "God save the King." Carlisle spoke, nodding his head.

George released his hands from Carlisle's shoulders. "Go, now. Deliver the letter and you can have the rest of the day off."

Carlisle walked away and ran off to the blacksmith once he went through the front door to the outside. His jog gave him time to reflect on things. Why would the king make a note of his loyalty? What else did his brother hide? Who would want to overthrow the king? So many questions, and he was not coming up with answers.

The blacksmith's shop was right there.

"Excuse me." Carlisle spoke to the shopkeeper.

"Hmm?" He responded, turning around.

"I have a letter from the King." Carlisle held it out to him.

"Oh." The shopkeep took the piece of parchment and opened the seal, reading the words written on the letter. "I see. We can provide the services he's requested. Here's a little something for your trouble." The shopkeep handed him a coinpurse. It wasn't as much as some of the other customers he's delivered to, but it was enough for anything else the house needed.

"Thank you, kind sir." Carlisle walked away and looked around him. He didn't know what to expect, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gregory. He appeared to don a white hood that had been stitched to his coat. What was he doing, looking suspicious? Gregory ducked into an alleyway, and Carlisle made the notion to follow.

Exiting the dark alleyway, he saw his brother approaching a tall building; a warehouse from the looks of it. Gregory jumped onto a number of boxes, climbing through a broken window. Carlisle was shocked, but also confused. What in damnation was Gregory up to?

"I guess I have to keep following him if I want to figure out what he's doing." Carlisle ran towards the boxes, climbing up them quickly to make sure he could keep up with his brother. He ignored the broken glass and managed to slip into the window without a sound. Inside, it was dark, but he found he was on top of more crates. A small railing hovered over him, and from the look of things, it was his only viable option for following his brother, since the limited lighting revealed there were no other crates forward. Carlisle jumped onto the beam, using his strength to pull himself up. He wasn't much for walking along railings, but he would take any option if it meant following Gregory.

"Lord," Carlisle whispered. "I didn't train to be an acrobat. Please don't let me fall off of this." He slowly walked along the beam, keeping himself balanced with his arms. As he walked along, he began to see actual light forming in an area; enough to point out he needed to turn onto another beam to continue. Using the pole that held the beams up, he swirved around onto the corner beam, thankful that he didn't fall off.

"You underestimate the Assassin Order's reach, Robert." One man spoke. He appeared to have a Spanish accent. "We've already conducted that they have eyes over half the city. The plan won't work."

"You overestimate our enemy just as much as I underestimate them, friend." A second voice spoke. It sounded a lot like the noble they saw yesterday. That would explain why Gregory was here. "We're already clearing out a few of their outposts within the city, and we can ensure we have the numbers to take the crown and replace the king with someone more agreeable to our cause. All we need is a little time."

"And how do you know at all that time will help us with the task our Grandmaster ordered us to perform?"

"He wouldn't have granted us permission to execute our plan if he didn't believe we could perform the task. Once we have the men set up, taking out King George will be easy. Give it time."

Carlisle looked closely to see the Nobleman smiling towards his Spanish friend. Suddenly, however, he heard a cracking sound from below him, and before he could move the board cracked from under him, sending him plummeting to the ground.

The two men turned to see Carlisle trying to get up from his fall. "Intruder! Guards! Kill the spy! He might be working for the Assassins!"

Carlisle got up in time to see four armed men approaching him. All of them had the uniform of the guard, and he recognized two of them from last night. Three had brandished their muskets at his face, and the fourth one carried an officer's sword. Carlisle was paralyzed in fear, and before he was going to die he prayed that God would provide him with a miracle.

Suddenly a figure in white descended upon two of the guards, stabbing them as he plummeted to the ground. Carlisle looked to see Gregory had jumped down and killed two of the guards, pulling out two concealed blades from his gloves that covered his jacket. The other two guards immediately turned to face the new threat, but Gregory sliced the last guard with a musket's throat. The blade then traveled towards the fourth guard, but the man slammed his sword hard on the blade, breaking it off of his glove. Gregory was quick, however, and proceeded to stab the guard with his other blade.

Only Carlisle realized in that split second the gun that went off into his brother's stomach.

As Gregory had slammed his left hand into the officer's neck, the officer had fired a pistol from his free hand. The shot went straight through Gregory, colliding with a crate behind them. Gregory didn't look at the bleeding wound until after he had pulled his surviving blade out of the officer's neck.

"Carlisle... Why did you come?" Gregory was about to collapse, but Carlisle caught him.

"Gregory." Carlisle pleaded. "Stay with me. Don't you dare die on me!"

"We need to get out of here... There's an exit nearby." Gregory made a quick turn to see the two conspirators run away. Carlisle got wind of this and looked back at his brother.

"We need to get you to a doctor. Just hold on." Carlisle carried his brother out of the warehouse, moving as fast as he could to get his brother to safety. It was just as they were about to exit the alley that Gregory collapsed. Carlisle looked down to see all of the blood Gregory was losing. Even when Gregory sat himself up it continued to pour, staining his white clothing crimson.

"I'm not going to make it, Carlisle." Gregory spoke weakly, the color leaving his face.

"Don't say that!" Carlisle yelled, unwilling to believe that his brother was going to die.

"Think of it this way, little brother. I'm going to go see God. To see if all of the promises and stories are true. You'd want me to go to heaven, wouldn't you?"

"I don't want you to go, now! Stay with me! We just need to-"

"Shhh. Hush, brother."

Carlisle began to form tears in his eyes, blinking them back as he saw his brother hand him a letter.

"This is a list of the conspirators and their plans. Make sure it is given to the members of the order. They'll send someone to visit mother once they discover I'm dead. Make sure they receive this."

Carlisle took it and placed it in his bag, already beginning to accept his brother's fate.

"I don't agree with what I'm going to do next, and I don't know if you'll be up for it, but you need to find Robert DuVall. He's the lead conspirator as of now, and he must be eliminated."

"You mean you want me to... murder him?" Carlisle's eyebrows raised in shock.

"I don't want you to assassinate him, but he is to perform a great injustice. I know you would want to bring justice to my death." He pulled off the large glove he wore and handed it to Carlisle. "Mother will tell you everything you want to know. I took upon father's job as he took upon it for his father. Now it falls to you to carry on our legacy."

"What legacy?"

"The legacy of the... Assassins. Good-bye... Brother." Gregory's head fell forward, and his hand dropped as Carlisle held the leather glove. Carlisle knew now that his brother was dead. He shut his eyes tight as more tears threatened to escape his eyes.

"Requiescat In Pace, Gregory." He stood up, hoping that someone would come and find the body to bring to the morgue. The strange glove was still in his hands, and he could make out a symbol in the shape of an A on it. He slipped it onto his left hand and flicked his wrist back, letting a spring blade pop out of it.

It would be the weapon he would use to end Robert DuVall's life.

[End Sequence 1]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, it's probably been a bit over a month, but I have been busy a bit playing the Assassins Creed games and doing stuff for college. I'm considering trying to do a concept on Carlisle using a few tricks I learned from the art classes, but I'm uncertain as of late. I'm sure you guys were expecting Gregory to die, but if you weren't just know this will help develop Carlisle's story more. Gregory's death makes Carlisle use the skills he wields as an Assassin for justice, but he questions many things as he fears he could likely change into the very thing he hunts.

It also doesn't help that he starts forming a conspiracy around a particular word the Templars use every time he kills them.

Anyways, the next chapter might take a while only because I will be devoting my writing time to writing two more chapters for my first story so I can put it on ice for a period of time. Next time Carlisle will seek justice on Robert DuVall, and make friends with the man mentioned during the prologue named Jauffre.

Until next time, guys. Vittoria Agli Assassini!


End file.
